Part Seven Author's note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this, or who's reading it. Hope you're enjoying it. Thanks to all the suggestions. No prizes for guessing who the relationship is gonna be, now. All criticisms and reviews are very gratefully received. You don't know how good it feels to know people are actually reading this!

Nick dumped his bag and coat in the little hallway, before crossing the lounge. The ansaphone was blinking with messages contained in them, although it turned out just to be his mom, asking where he was. She never did seem to get the fact that a graveyard shift tended to mean working at night. He decided she could wait for the call back, after he'd had a chance to sleep. He was too tired to put up with her usual questioning, usually along the line of when was he gonna come home to Texas and find himself a wife?

He was just contemplating what CD to put on while he took a shower when there was a knock on the door. Probably the postman or someone, he decided as he went to answer it, totally unprepared for Sara being across from him.

'I'm not too involved in this case. I don't need you to tell me what to do. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself.' She told him before he even had a chance to muster up a greeting. Her tone was harsh, her stance angry.

'Hi.' He responded blandly.

'I just wanted you to know that.' She said, her tone a little softer now.

'I think the message came across.' He answered sardonically.

'Good. Then you can stop giving me hassle about it at every given opportunity.' She told him, looking satisfied.

'Was that all?' He asked. 'Because, you know, I was just gonna go to bed.'

'Oh. Uh. Sure. That was all. Just wanted you to know. Wanted to know you got the message.'

'I'm not gonna stop worrying about you, Sara. Someone has to.' Sara had turned as if to leave, but now looked back at him, eyes narrowed. 'Why do you do that? Why do you treat me as if I can't look after yourself?'

'I don't doubt that you can look after yourself. But doing it on a part time casual basis isn't enough.'

'So how do you do it, oh wise one? Tell me, how am I meant to be living?'

Nick regarded her for a moment, deliberately not answering straight away because he knew Sara wasn't going to listen whatever he said. Before he knew what was happening, she had crossed the couple of feet between them, and her lips were on his in a crushing kiss.

For a moment his brain refused to get past the fact that Sara was kissing him. When it did, he realised his fantasy kiss.well was going to remain a fantasy for the moment. This was hard, angry, tough kiss. Nick broke it before it could get any further, not surprised to see the hostility in Sara's eyes when she looked at him.

'Come on Nick.don't tell me you didn't want this.' She whispered harshly, her fingers on the button of his jeans indicating what this was.

For a moment, Nick closed his eyes, as the button came apart quickly with Sara's nimble fingers. He did want this, had always wanted this. Just not this way.

He pulled back before she could start on the zip. 'No, Sara.'

'No?' She asked, as if the word was from a foreign language.

'No.' Nick confirmed. 'I'm not gonna deny that I like you. A lot. And yeah, I've wanted more from our relationship. But not like this. Not because you're mad, and hurt, and want to feel better about yourself. I'm not that type of guy.'

'You don't want to have sex with me?'

'Oh, I want to have sex with you. Just not like this, not with you like this. Not when you only want to do it because I'm here and available. I won't be that guy for you.'

Sara looked up at him, a strange mix of toughness and vulnerability. 'Fine.' She spat at him. 'Just don't think that for one minute you'll get another chance.' And she was gone, the roar of the engine potent in the quiet morning air, leaving Nick feeling wounded, and more than a little concerned. Who was that?

Sara rarely slept a whole lot of hours during the day. Even after all this time, her body was just not ready to accept that day time was equalled to sleep time. Time was a strange concept when you worked over two days, and slept through one rather than the other way round. She rarely knew what day it actually was, unless there was something obvious to identify it by, like the garbage men on a Thursday morning. She had calendars all over her house to try and keep track.

That was why, at three o-clock that afternoon she was out jogging. She wasn't particularly into keeping fit- irregular sleep and even more irregular eating habits usually worked in keeping weight off. But there were occasions when no amount of tossing or turning in bed worked, and there was little on the box at this time of the day. So she ran. And thought.

If you could die from embarrassment, she was currently dying a long slow painfully drawn out death. She couldn't even think without seeing the look on Nick's face, hearing her words said aloud over and over and over. Like a bad tape stuck on a never ending loop. Seeing the pained look on Nick's face.

She didn't want to go to work tonight. She couldn't remember the last time she had had that thought. She really really really didn't want to go to work tonight. Worse still, she was meant to be picking Nick up on the way. She could just see that turning out well. "Hi, sorry I threw myself at you in a fit of abandonment, I was just feeling really bad about myself" didn't sound like much of an excuse. How was she meant to face him ever again?

However she tried to rationalise her behaviour, try and assess it logically and objectively, she knew she had been way out of order, that she had just used and abused possibly the best friend she had to make herself feel better. Or just to feel really.

What had she been thinking when she had u-turned, went back to his place, said that stuff to him? She did a mental head slap. Then did a real one just for good measure, making two old ladies waiting at the bus stop look at her startled. If she had her gun with her, now would seem like the perfect time to put into practice all that she had learned from years of being a CSI.

She ran for a good three miles, till the sweat poured from her, and every muscle ached enough to finally take her mind of Nick. She stood under a luke warm shower, letting the powerful jets kneed at her back, trying to work up the energy to lather up some soap to wash her hair. She put her head under the jets of water, letting the water stream down her shut eyes and partly open mouth, wondering how she could get through the day.

The answer came contained in her bag and a paper cardboard folder. What better way to not have to think of Nick than to work on the very case that made her feel so out of control?

She lugged the Yellow Pages and her cordless phone to the desk, and started looking for suppliers of HF. It was a controlled chemical, which supposedly meant that you couldn't just buy it, as many people were willing to tell her over the phone. So she logged onto the Internet, and a couple of searches later identified at least two thousand suppliers all willing to ship it with the only guarantee of a credit card number that was real. Another dead end. Another lead disintegrating before her. Sara shook her head. Perhaps working hadn't been such a good idea after all.

She sat and looked out of her window for a while, watching the world and his wife go past, before on impulse she dialled a number, and arranged to meet someone.

There was always one thing she could do. Emily Watson had obviously been looking out for her, as she opened the door before Sara had exited the car. Sara had dressed in jeans and a spaghetti strapped top, the air on high in the car making the heat outside seem more oppressive. Inside the flat was barely any better, even with every window open.

She started on what was left of Fai McKinley's life, rejecting a drink from Emily, concentrating on the girl who had been burned so bad she couldn't even be recognised from the outside.

Nick waited on the street corner, not thinking for a moment that Sara would actually turn up to pick him up. But the small part of his character that liked torturing itself with hope meaning he was stood there anyway. He looked at his watch, then back at the road. He was perhaps a little early, but then, Sara was always in early. Five more minutes. He would wait five minutes, then call a cab and get a ride in.

Four minutes. He noticed a black Tahoe at the end of the road, as his heart started pounding in his chest, and he was sure that he had forgotten how to breathe as he watched it come up the road. Disappointment coursed through him, as the car rushed past, not slowing, an older guy sat at the wheel looking ahead at the road.

Why was he disappointed? What was he meant to say if Sara did come here? How were you meant to start a conversation with someone who had come to jump you, and been turned down in no uncertain terms. Nick knew he had done the right thing, but couldn't keep the tiny amount of regret at his decision from creeping into the peripheries. He just had the answer to his dreams basically tell him his every wish was about to come true and he had turned her down.

Was he that dumb?

But he knew if they had done, whatever it was they would have done, that he would have totally ruined any chance he ever had with Sara. And he wasn't willing to do that just yet.

He looked at his watch. Five minutes had come and gone, and he resigned himself to the fact that Sara was now going to be avoiding him, and turned to go back into the house to call a cab. He had taken two steps when a car slowed to a stop by the kerb, and sat in idle. He turned around slowly, a small smile lighting up his heart, if not his face as Sara reluctantly met his look.

She kept two hands firmly on the wheel, turning back to survey the road after that quick glance his way. She didn't look as he got in, just waited for the door to close, before stepping on the gas.

Nick finally cleared his throat. The silence was way too oppressive. He fidgeted in his seat. Stared at the radio, searched his brain for anything. Any words to say to take away this atmosphere. Failing miserably at that, he instead said the first thing that came to his mind. 'Well, if we're this awkward now, imagine what it would have been like if we had had sex.'

Sara looked at him in shocked surprise, before a smile caught at her lips and she even laughed a little. The words had been so unexpected, that at first Sara didn't know how to respond. She hadn't come equipped to actually talk about what had happened. She just wanted to get through the night.

'I'm sorry.' She eventually said into the quiet. She turned, caught his look and held it for a second. 'Really sorry. I don't know why I did that.'

'Forget about it, ok? We all do things we regret. Let's just forget about it.' Nick said, watching her even though her eyes were back on the road. He saw her nod slightly.

'Thank you.' She spoke to the windscreen. 'Thank you for taking it easy on me.'

Nick laughed slightly as he looked out the window. 'Oh don't worry, I expect something to make it up.'

Sara looked at him again, this time a genuine smile lighting up her face. 'You're on.' She promised.



I've always seen Sara as a go get them type of character, but if you disagree, please let me know what you think. Another thing, has the show said anything about Sara's family- you know sisters or brothers etc? I'd be grateful for any info about this.